Come Home
by Daliah Valley
Summary: Realization comes in many forms- dawning, sudden, and gradual. Sarah's came in the form of the Goblin King in her apartment. For a girl, no smarter than the average girl, nor braver, said one sentence, six words, eight syllables, twenty letters that had broken him. [ONE-SHOT]


Come Home

* * *

_'Everything I can't be is everything you should be.  
And that's why I need you here.  
There's someone I've been missing.  
I think that they could be  
The better half of me._

* * *

You have no power over me.

Six words. Six words, eight syllables, twenty letters, one sentence- that was all it took to break a man. A man who was cruel and malicious when it suited him, capable of twisting harmless words into daggers, capable of inspiring fear into even the wisest of people. Capable of kindness, love, and companionship. A man who offered you your very dreams. Dreams are things of beauty, spun on silken strands of thought and weaved together to create wonderful fairytales or haunting nightmares. And he had precedence over it all.

Until a girl, no smarter than the average girl, nor braver, said one sentence, six words, eight syllables, twenty letters that broke this man.

He was capable of companionship, truly he was. The trouble is, the ungrateful twits he dealt with only saw him as the man who stole their sister, brother, mother, uncle, cousin, with a crystal and a maze. Did they ever try to talk to him? Of course not. That was not why they were there. They either gathered what they had won, or lost what they had gambled and left to face the harsh reality of what they did, forever blaming this man.

But this man, along with companionship, he offered love. Not very often. His love was a sacred and unknown thing, like a babe born within the depths of a forest, hidden from the world for none to see. He offered his love, once and only once, and felt the raw, unbridled pain of rejection. When he loved, it was strong and singular- there was never a change. He would not love another. Even though he changed to an owl, he was a swan. A graceful, beautiful, cruel, vain creature that only loves once in it's life. And while he may be rejected, he did not stop loving. If anything, he loved stronger than before, his determination setting in. He would have what he wanted, needed, and nothing would stop him.

* * *

_It might stop now.  
But maybe I'm just dreamin'  
Out loud._

* * *

Sarah Williams. If you were to ask people about her, you would get different responses. Her professors would say she is a bright, hard working girl. Her step mother would smile fondly and shake her head. Her friends would describe her as well meaning, but a little aloof. Her younger brother would proudly declare her the bestest older sister ever. And if you were to ask her, well, she would frown and claim that she wasn't all that interesting. She would be wrong, of course, because who else could steal the heart of a king without knowing it?

But it was only a matter of time before she realized what she had done. Realization comes in many forms- dawning, sudden, and gradual. Hers came in the form of the Goblin King in her apartment.

* * *

Sarah had been on her own for about five years. Her family was rather far away, since she had moved to a town halfway across the country. She lived on her own, in a small apartment in between a pub/coffee shop and a pawn shop. She had a job at the coffee shop, and she enjoyed it. Most of the time anyway.

She had just gotten home from work one evening, dreaming of the lovely soft bed she had waiting for her. She groaned when she realized that she still had dishes and laundry to do, not to mention a dog to feed. Not Merlin, of course. He had grown to old for the constant traveling she did, and was presently Toby's loving buddy. It was an ugly, nervous little thing she had found at the pound. It looked like a bald rat, or if one was being reminiscent, then it reminded her of a goblin. Therefore she named it Darb. A proper goblin-y name.

Sarah sighed and shuffled through for her purse for her keys. She fumbled with them for a moment before turning the lock and pushing the door open. She walked into the kitchen without turning the lights on, and dumped her bag unceremoniously onto the counter. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and slumped into a chair. It took her moment to compose herself, and then she sat up straighter and called for Darb. She listened for the clicking of his little paws on the hardwood, but when they didn't come right away, she called for him again. Again, no sound. Thinking he was asleep, she poured him some food for later and stood up.

She went to the sink to wash her dishes. She filled the sink with warm, soapy water and rolled her sleeves up. She shoved her arms into the water, and started washing the dishes. She hummed to herself while doing so. It was a sweet melody, but haunting and desperate. She didn't remember where she had heard it, but she knew it. She even...felt it.

She shoved a stray hair back from her face and glanced up quickly, into the small window she had in front of her sink. She gasped when she saw something in the reflection. She whirled around, and then sighed in relief. It was only Darb. She scolded him softly, crouching down next to him.

"Don't do that to me, darling," she petted him, and then stood up swiftly and turned on the light she had neglected to earlier.

"Wouldn't dream of it, precious," a deep voice drawled behind her. She made an inarticulate sound and spun around to face her attacker. She covered her mouth quickly, and her eyes widened.

It was him.

The goblin king.

Jareth.

He was there. In her kitchen, looking extremely out of place. He was wearing a white poet's shirt that was slit down the middle, all the way down to the his belly button. A pendant on a chain was exposed, and Sarah was inexplicably drawn to it. His pants were, surprisingly, not a second skin, but rather brown leather tucked into boots of the same material. He had the same wild hair, only a little longer and disheveled, achieving a look that only added to his already-otherworldly aura.

He still had those ever-smirking lips, those mis-matched pupils, that thin nose. While looking at him, though, she felt as if she needed she squint, like she was looking at a bright light. His profile was so defined that the air around him seemed to dull and swim, bring him more into focus.

* * *

_I get lost in the beauty  
Of everything I see.  
The world isn't half as bad  
As we paint it to be.  
Stop to take it in._

* * *

Sarah stared at him unabashedly. Yes, she decided, he looked very out of place, with his regal posture and gloved hands, standing in her rather clustered and small kitchen. A king, a barista, and a rat-goblin-dog thing.

A smirk settled over his lips and he produced a crystal before she could say anything. He offered it to her silently, and smiled when she immediately reached for it before she stopped when she realized what she was doing.

"What-what are you doing here?" she whispered. Jareth sighed and pulled his hand back, juggling the crystal through his hand. Her eyes were drawn to it as soon as he began to.

"I offered you your dreams once, no, twice," he stated, ignoring her question and sliding the crystal sphere between his fingers smoothly. "And yet, you still doubt my abilities."

She frowned at him. "If it was anybody else in my kitchen, playing with magical paper-weights, then I would be strangling them, not asking questions. Consider yourself lucky," she pointed out.

The king stopped his hand trick and threw the crystal into the air, and it floated away like a bubble, landing with a pop in the sink. "You are grown up now, Sarah," he looked her up and down. She blushed under his inquiring stare.

"Yup. Sure am," she ducked her head and shrugged. "Twenty three years old."

"Hmm...you look decent," he nodded approvingly.

"Decent? Am I supposed to be flattered or offended?" She raised a brow.

"You are not 'supposed' to be anything. Take it how you wish," he replied and then stepped past her to where her dog was. She jumped, not realizing how close he had been. She turned to where he was crouched next to her dog. His lip lifted in disgust, but then he promptly lifted the dog up and held it in his arms.

"I like it. Name?" he inquired.

"Uhm- his name is Darb," she told him. "He reminded me of a gob-rat," she corrected herself quickly, scratching absently at her arm where the soap had began to itch.

"Gob-rat?"

"Y-yeah," she mumbled, mentally cursing her clumsy tongue and inability to lie.

If he noticed anything, he didn't say it. "He looks more of a Jareth to me," he looked the dog over again, an then nodded. "Yes. I shall call him Jareth," he announced.

"You're renaming my dog?" she marveled, a little more than shocked.

"Indeed. Jareth is suiting for anybody. And I rather believe that he would be flattered to have the great honor of carrying it," Jareth smirked. He seemed to do that a lot.

Sarah, finally getting over the shock of his un-announced arrival, felt anger flare up inside her. "So you think you can just march into my kitchen uninvited, scare me half to death, and rename my dog?" she demanded.

"So it seems," he replied calmly.

"No, you can't do that! It's not f-right. It's not right," she cursed her tongue again, and continued. "Just who do you think you are?"

Something in his eyes changed, and he set the dog down. He stalked to her and pulled her close, forcing her to look at him. "Who am I? I am ruler of the underground, keeper of the labyrinth, spinner of dreams, granted of wishes, protector of all things I hold dear. But above all, I am a king. Not just any king, a Goblin king. And you would do well to keep that in mind." he hissed, with a firm grip on her shoulders.

She shook herself free. "Well you aren't my king, so I owe you nothing." The air around them crackled dangerously, charged with electricity.

"Nothing?" he snarled. His voice was dangerously low. "Nothing? Nothing? Nothing, tra-la-la? I have done everything, everything you asked. I took your brother when you wished it, and I gave him back. I became the fantasy villain you dreamt of. I sent you ballroom dances wrapped in crystal packaging-"

"That song!" Sarah gasped, remembering.

"-I sang for you, I danced for you, I begged for you, and you denied me. You gave me nothing. Sarah, all I ask is that you see me as I am, not as the wicked illusion you refuse to shake." Somewhere during his rant, his voice had changed to a weak desperation and his eyes were pleading. "Sarah, please."

"I-I can't," she looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. A gloved finger lifted to her chin and forced her to look at him.

"Try. Sarah, the only thing I ask is that you try."

"I-I..." Could she? Did she make a mistake all those years ago? Was he really who she saw him as? She finally looked up and met his eyes resolutely. "Yes."

With a relieved sigh, he dropped his arm. "Thank you."

* * *

_Hopefully the hate subsides and the love can begin. _

* * *

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then made up her mind. Surging forward, she grabbed his face and brought it crashing into hers, lips clinging to his. It took him half a second to realize what had happened. His arms slipped around her body and pulled her close.

When they broke apart, he looked into her eyes and then kissed her cheek. "I've been missing you," he breathed. "Come home."

* * *

_I say to you, come home, come home.  
'Cause I've been waiting for you for so long, so long.  
Right now there a war between the vanities,  
But all I see is you and me.  
the fight for you is all I've ever known.  
So come home, come home._

* * *

___**A/N: Hi! So….had fun with this, written on a whim. Songfic based on the song 'Come Home' by One Republic. Check it out! Leave a nice tip in the box please.**_  



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